This wicked, wicked life of mine
by Acciolilliputian
Summary: Thomas wakes up in a bed - confused but not alone. As it turns out, his mother left him at Wicked - an all boys school with a very troublesome name. These walls seem to hide a lot of secrets, and more are to come. Prepare for mischief, angst and romance at Wicked - a school for unwanted boys. Rated T for language and future adventures.
1. Waking up

Thomas slowly opened his eyes and blinked hard a few times to the bright light that welcomed him back to the real world, the one outside his own mind. He felt dizzy, an odd kind of dizzy, one that resembled the unpleasantwoozy feeling that hits right after being punched in the head real hard with something pointy. Thomas could feel his thoughts jumping out of his skull in a mixture of confusion and pure panic, he could see them running all around the room, tearing everything apart.

Thomas wished he could do the same, he wished the bright light could stop blinding him, and that his head could just slow down and quit the trying-to-kill-him-part.

All he managed was to ball his hands into fists and push them into his eyes, rubbing not so gently, trying to punch some sense into his own body. _Where was he?_

When Thomas finally lowered his hands back to the mattress underneath him, the light had stopped being so blinding, and he could finally begin to make some sense of this weird situation.

He was clearly lying in a bed, he couldn't argue on that one. Moving his head only slightly, and terribly carefully, he took in the west side of the room, which turned out to be quite small. The walls were painted in a light green color, making him feel as if the one decorating this room wanted its inhabitants to feel as if being in a calm and light forest instead of in an actual room. The furniture was neatly placed along three of the walls around the bed Thomas was now resting in and was, along with both the ceiling and the floor, painted white. Thomas found the source of the bright light on the opposite wall, the east one. There was a huge window, swallowing most of the short wall, letting a whole lot of sunlight into the room.

There was a person standing in front of the window, clearly looking right at him. With the sunlight shining in behind the person, it looked more like a huge shadow than an actual human being. Judging by what Thomas tired eyes could pick up, he determined that the shadow was in fact a man, a huge man in all ways possible.

He was tall, the tallest man Thomas had ever seen, and also the broadest. His chest seemed to stretch out forever, accompanied by muscular shoulders and a thick throat. His whole body screamed of order and discipline, clearly something military. As Thomas watched, the man started walking towards him, quickly deleting the small amount of steps that had been present between them. The man looked even more terrifying up close, where Thomas could see every deep line in his scarred and broad face, see the popping veins in his thick arms.

"Thomas," he said, his voice being all dark and serious. He showed no emotion what so ever, his voice being flat and his body still. Thomas himself felt like creeping right out of his own skin, every inch of his body was itching with a strange sensation, one that he definitely didn't like. The man seemed to be waiting for a response, but all Thomas could bring himself to do was nod. So he did, which didn't seem to please the man. Well, he didn't seem to disapprove of it either. "Age sixteen. Breaking and entering, abuse, you tried to kill your stepdad, is that right, Thomas?" The man had a strange tone of amusement hiding in his hard and serious voice, and Thomas couldn't understand why. Not that he could do much of anything for the moment, his head was spinning in such speed that he strongly felt of vomiting.

The man had not yet managed to tare his eyes from Thomas's own, a hard glace with no sign of emotion, neither disapproval nor liking could be determined from his voice. Thomas felt utterly confused, the words had started a slow process inside his throbbing head, one that was now speeding. Memories connected to the words he had just heard began swimming up towards the point in his brain where they could be grasped and closely examined, Thomas tried reaching after them to see if what this man was saying were actually true. He ignored the screaming in his gut as he cached the first memory, this one consisting of only a few words connected with a burning rage that surprised him deeply. _Boy broke into stepdad's house with baseball bat, _words coming from a magazine.

She had sent him away.

"Where am I?" Thomas finally said, after what appeared to be a long moment of silence. The man still hadn't looked away and Thomas sincerely hoped that he couldn't see how much the boy's body was trembling with fear and confusion.

"_Wicked_," the voice was still as unrevealing as before, which started to annoy Thomas. "A school for troubled youngsters like yourself." The man turned his back and headed for the door, not giving Thomas a chance to ask about the upsetting and weird name of the school. "You'll meet the others soon, I'll send Alby to pick you up and give you a tour," he paused in the doorway and turned, as if he wanted to look at Thomas one last time before he disappeared. "Thomas, this is your new home. Don't fuck this up." The words were meant to be encouraging, but all Thomas felt was empty. And scared, utterly terrified to be correct. As the strange man left the room, Thomas let his head fall back on the pillow and allowed his eyes to fall shut. The consistent throbbing in his head led him into a dreamless sleep once again.

This time, he nearly wished he wouldn't wake up.


	2. This home of ours

"Newbie! It's time to wake up!" the voice was extremely loud in Thomas ear, causing a moment of utter confusion. The sealing was so white it hurt to look at it, but the voice had sounded so urgent, Thomas didn't dare to close his eyes again, so instead he blinked a few times and turned his head towards the sound.

There was a boy standing beside his bed, his skin was dark and his expression matched the hardness in his voice. To the newly waked and venerable eye, he looked terrifying.

"Ye hearing bad? Get up, I said," the voice continued, a little lower now that the boy saw Thomas open eyes.  
>By using all his willpower he managed to sit up, swing his legs over the side of the bed and once again meet the other boy's eyes.<p>

"Are you Alby?" Thomas asked, remembering the name that man had given him earlier. The boy, Alby, nodded and rolled his eyes. Thomas hurried to stand up, the room spinning as he did so. The confusion was still present, taking up a huge part of his mind. "Who was that man?" he didn't know if Alby would understand him, but for the moment he didn't have enough power left for explanations.

The other boy was now standing at the end of the room, by the open door. He didn't seem to be waiting for Thomas, just coldly counted on him to follow. Thomas head was throbbing painfully with every step he took, a fact he was trying to ignore as he followed Alby out of the room and into a long corridor. This whole place seemed to be decorated in a nature-theme, the walls were painted to reassemble trees, and the sealing looked like a blue sky. Alby was walking with long, urgent steps in a speed Thomas had a hard time matching. The other boy stayed silent for a few moments before he spoke up to answer Thomas earlier question.

"Grossman, he's the manager of this place." Alby seemed to know exactly to whom Thomas was referring to, which was a relief. This corridor was very long and the tall boy in front of him took big steps, Thomas had to focus all his energy at keeping up. Alby clearly knew where he was going, which was good because Thomas felt lost.

Suddenly, they entered a huge staircase, bright light from the outside spilled in from the huge windows that covered the front of the building, making the white steps shine. It seemed like all different floors were joined together here, and as it turned out they were currently on the second floor. A sign hung on the wall next to the exit, telling Thomas that this was the infirmary, making him wonder what kind of school this was that needed one entire floor for injuries.

He was suddenly woken from his thoughts as a loud shout echoed between the walls and floors. It was Alby's voice, clearly trying to catch the attention of someone higher up in the building. "Newt!" he screamed, his eyes focused on a spot a few floors up. How high was this building? "Newt! We've got ourselves a new Greenie!" a light smile played with the older boy's mouth, his eyes shined with a kind of mischief that made Thomas slightly nervous. He joined the other boy out on the plateau in the huge rectangular staircase and looked up, trying to get a glimpse of what might be hiding upstairs. Slowly, Alby turned towards him, the hint of a grin had escaped his face, instead he looked just as serious and bored as he did the first time Thomas saw him. This made him silently wonder if this boy even knew how to laugh. It didn't seem like it.

"Dining hall, gym and Grossman's office is downstairs. Griever's as well, so if you wanna live, shank head, don't turn right down these stairs," Alby's voice had a scary tone to it, one that made Thomas promise himself that he would never, under any circumstances, turn right at the ground floor. But still, he couldn't help but ask.

"What's a Griever?" his voice sounded raw from not being used, his throat hurt a little from even making the sounds. Alby gave his question a hard look and started climbing the steps towards the next floor. "The janitor," came as an answer, and Thomas felt like he didn't need to know anything else, the two words that Alby had used spoke for themselves. "Down on that side, you'll find the teacher's quarters," he pointed downwards, towards the other side of the staircase on the floor they had just left. "And here you have your classes," he stopped on the plateau splitting the left and right side of the third floor and pointed a finger in both directions, not bothering to tell Thomas any details before he headed up another flight of stairs. "Newt! You shank head, get down here!" Alby's voice echoed between the walls, making Thomas jump. He wasn't quite sure if he wanted to meet this Newt kid, if he hung out with people like Alby, big and absolutely terrifying, Thomas thought he might pass.

"What classes will I take?" he couldn't stop the questions from jumping out of his mouth, this whole experience was just so bizarre, and by asking questions he hoped it all would start making at least a little sense. "Are the teachers any good? Won't it be weird for me to join you in the middle of a semester?" his own voice bounced toward the steps ahead of him. There were many steps, many stairs, and Thomas's legs were already shaking from exhaustion. His body was still weak, his mind still spinning. It didn't matter how much he tried, he still couldn't recall the incident that had brought him here, an upsetting thought.

An irritated sigh escaped Alby's lips as he came to rest upon the plateau of the fourth, and clearly last, floor. "The regular I guess, no, and no – classes have barely started," he paused and folded his arms to his chest. "This is the dorms, and the common room is here," he waved his hand toward a huge room at the left side of the staircase. "You'll be sleeping down this hall, sharing room with Chuck," Alby gave a small laugh as he said the boy's name, it sounded almost like a bark, like something he rarely used.

Alby started walking into the corridor on their left, the same corridor that Thomas would be sleeping in. To get to the dorms, you had to cross the common room, which turned out to be a huge space filled with sofas, a TV where some boys were playing videogames, a table where some were busy playing cards and a small bookshelf filled with colorful books. The corridor on the other side was smaller than the one they had been walking down before, but not any shorter. It ended with a great window, the sunlight colored the wooden floor and seemed to be the only source of light for the moment.

Alby stopped by the second door to the right and banged it hard with both of his fists before he flung it open. Thomas tried to peak over his shoulder, but without succeeding, the boy's broad shoulders blocked the view.

"Newt! You made me do the whole bloody tour by my own!" Alby shouted into the room. Thomas could hear a rumble, almost like someone falling of a bed, and before he knew it, a blond head appeared in the doorway. The other boy, who had to be Newt, peaked over Alby's shoulder before pushing him aside completely, stepping out into the faint light in the corridor. He was a bit taller than Alby, but his boy build was nothing near as terrifying as his friends. While Alby looked like he could pick Thomas up and throw him away as easily as one can throw a paper plane, Newt looked as if he would crumble and collapse by just thinking the thought. He had long legs and a thin torso, accompanied with a set of small shoulders and a long neck, he looked like a young tree. A short laugh escaped from the new boy's mouth as he let his green eyes sweep over Thomas's body.

"As if ye can't handle a bloody tour by yerself," Newt said, clearly to Alby, and when he continued he had his eyes locked with Thomas's. "So ye're the new Greenie, welcome to hell." He wore a small smile, Thomas couldn't determine if he was being serious or not. "I guess this shank head didn't even bother givin' ye a proper showing of this place, we'll take care of that tomorrow." He shrugged his shoulders and started walking down the corridor, only to stop a few doors down. Newt mimicked Alby's behavior when knocking on this other door, causing a slight tumult to occur on the other side of the dark wood. The walls in this corridor were painted green as well, the sealing blue. Thomas still felt as if he was trapped inside a huge forest and wondered if he would ever see a real one again. Luckily, before he could let his thoughts grow even more depressing, the door in front of him flew open and revealed a slightly younger boy, at the age of twelve or thirteen, in the doorway. His black curly hair was tangled in one enormous mess and his round cheeks seemed to be stuffed with crackers, judging by the crumbs on his shirtfront.

"Yeah?" the young boy said, and then his eyes caught sight of Thomas, standing awkwardly in the background. "A greenie?" he asked, excitement filling his voice.  
>"Don't piss yourself, Chuck," Alby said from the background, but Chuck didn't seem to hear him. Newt gave his friend a hard stare before he spoke up. "Thomas, Chuck," he waved his hand between them before he turned to Chuck again. "I guess ye ain't the Greenie anymore, shank," he even smiled a little as he said so. Thomas still hadn't figured out their way of speaking, they all seemed to have a bit of an accent he couldn't quite place, even though Newt's was extreme, and they used words he'd never heard before. Like shank, and Greenie. Thomas sighed inwardly, another new place, another new way of life to learn. Even though he had to admit that he hadn't quite felt this kind of excitement at any of the other schools he had attended, which was clearly saying something.<p>

"Well, I'm starved. Let's see if this newbie can find his way to the dining," Newt said and gave Thomas a hard pat on the shoulder, hinting something of a smile as he did so. Thomas couldn't help but wonder why a guy like Newt had ended up in a place like this. And frankly, he wasn't even sure he wanted to know.


	3. This war of ours

I've forgotten to write the obvious: I do not own The Maze Runner, the characters or anything.

And I would love to hear from you, to kow what your beautiful minds think about this little story of mine! And thank you to those who've already given me some kind words. All my love to you, darlings!

Now, enjoy chapter 3!

* * *

><p>"They call this their charity project," Newt said and took a bite of his ham and cheese sandwich, not sounding as if he were talking about a good cause. The humorous light in his eyes seemed to have faded away completely, leaving a distant glance that made the older boys green eyes look even deeper and more profound.<p>

Eventually, Thomas had remembered that the dining hall was situated at the ground floor, and now they were all sitting around a table in the outskirts of the grand room, a huge window to the left revealing nothing but a green lawn. Thomas couldn't quite let go of his earlier thought, what had really brought all these kids here? He turned his head slightly and looked at the younger boy at his side. Had Chuck really been able to do something so bad that his parents chose to send him away? Thomas felt oddly empty inside, a deep sorrow spread between his ribs and concurred all of his insides. What kind of mother would send her own son away for no good reason at all?

"I've been 'ere the longest, me and some other shanks. Two years now," he tried to kill a huge yawn without succeeding, instead his face became overrun by fatigue, every line in his expression seemed to deepen which gave the boy an even older appeal. Newt shrugged his shoulders and let his eyes wander, looking at nothing in particular but still refusing to meet Thomas glance. He felt sorry for the boy, he really did, but couldn't help but once again wonder why he was here. As if Newt could read his mind, he changed the subject in a hurry.

"Anyways, I think ya gonna like this place. Lot of strange stuff happening 'ere," he smiled as he spoke, as if these walls were clothed with precious secrets, ghosts of former terrors and pranks wandered up and down these hallways.

Thomas felt a jolt of surprise as his body was filled with a peculiar mixture of excitement and jealousy. It was clear that these boys knew each other well, they had spent a couple of years together. Thomas was a newbie, he did not belong here. Yet.  
>He forced a smile, and as he lifted the corners of his mouth upward he felt it growing more and more genuine and true.<p>

Newt laughed, he threw his head a bit upward and let a short laugh escape his throat.  
>"Well, speak of the devil, 'ere he comes! The biggest klunkhead of 'em all!"<p>

Thomas turned his body around in his seat and scanned the room. His glace quickly found its way to one particular boy, one strong boy with dark hair and slightly darker skin. His body built spoke of many miles in the track and long hours with heavy weights, his jean shirt stretched a little over his shaped chest, a pair of black pants hung loosely from his hips. Thomas's brain quickly labeled him, no prejudices aside, as a hot Asian. The thought was laughable, and most of all embarrassing. Thomas tried to shake it off before the guy reached their table, but was not quick enough.

Up close, his hair looked like satin. His eyes were more of a gold brown than a dark and troublesome brown. But one could not miss the wicked spark that added that extra shine.  
>The reason why Thomas did notice all of these things about this particular boy was because he had decided to sit his ass down right next to Thomas on the bench.<p>

"Man, I'm starved," he said and looked greedily at his own sandwich.

Newt, on the other side of the table, laughed, a barking sound and nothing alike the sounds of excitement and pleasure he had made by the sight of the other boy.  
>"Mihno, ye blind klunk, this is Thomas, our freshest newbie," a broad smile decorated his thin lips. "And Thomas, this is Mihno. The biggest slinthead ever set foot on this place," he kept his eyes fixed on the black haired boy and kept his smile from fading. Thomas assumed that they had known each other for quite some time.<p>

"Don't forget to mention that I'm also the best looking one," Mihno said and grinned. There was a hand stretched out in the small area of nothingness that separated Thomas from the Asian boy, it took a few seconds before Thomas realized that he was supposed to shake it.

"Welcome to the hellhole, greenie," Mihno said as he used his right hand to grip Thomas's. It was a weird sensation that spread from Mihno's long fingers and up through Thomas's arm. He let go as quickly as he could, without being rude.

"That's the second time I've heard someone call this hell," Thomas pointed out, remembering the welcome he had gotten from Newt.  
>The three boys around him smiled, looking somewhat manic. <em>What is this place? Is it something in the food making everyone mad?<em>

"Some call it Wicked, we call it Hell, simple as that," Mihno said, a hint of a smile played with one side of his mouth as he took a huge bite of his sandwich.

"It all depends on from which perspective you see things from," came another voice, one that Thomas did recognize, but had not heard during their lunch break. Alby had come to sit down on the other side of Newt, the side that was not already occupied by Chuck.

"Why?" Thomas asked as he witnessed Alby steal one of Newt's potato chips and pop it into his own mouth before his friend had snatched it back.  
>Newt abandoned attempting to stop Alby, instead he moved his lunchtray a bit further away and locked eyes with Tomas.<p>

"'Cause it is hell," he answered, as if that would be enough, which it clearly wasn't, a feeling that Thomas emitted by putting on a confused frown.

Alby sighed and gave up trying to steal from his blond friend and devoted all of his attention to Thomas and his question.  
>"You see that shank over there?" he nodded his head towards a table at the other end of the room where a group of boys about the same age as himself were sitting. "The blond one," Alby continued, making it easier for Thomas to know which of the boys he was talking about.<p>

The blond one turned out to be quite huge, big bones and probably a lot of muscles hiding underneath the blue thin shirt he had draped around his torso. Thomas couldn't quite make out any specific features from this distance, but what he could make out was the other boy's voice. It was thick and raspy, full of that kind of authority that doesn't fit with a child.

"What about him?" as Thomas spoke, the blond turned his thick neck towards him and for just a second, the two boys locked eyes before Thomas quickly turned his glance away, afraid that staring might just provoke the other boy, something he didn't really felt like doing on his first day.

"His name is Gally," Mihno said, his mouth full of sandwich. The act of talking with his mouth full earned a kick on the shin from his friend on the other side of the table, Newt. Mihno grunted and kept quiet, devoted all of his attention towards the food still left on his tray. So Alby spoke up instead.  
>"He think he owns this place."<p>

"And I guess that you guys don't agree," Thomas said, picking up the apple on his tray and took one big bite. At least he couldn't complain on the food.

"Of course not," Mihno said, not able to contain himself. This time his mouth was not filled with food, so the bruise on his shin remained alone.

"Then who is?" Thomas was no longer able to control the questions from jumping out of his mouth, his excitement had been building up inside of him all day, and now the cup was full, the water was spilling over the edge.

Mihno was about to open his mouth, but Chuck was quicker. The younger boy had kept quiet all this time, devoting all of his attention towards the lunch on the table in front of him.

"Principal Grossman, of course," he looked up, that round face of his was calm, full of that childish glow that Thomas's own had lost some years ago. "And the Griever, can't forget the Griever," he continued before taking a sip from his apple juice.

"Speak of the devil," Newt said and moved his eyes towards the doorway where a thin man now had appeared. He reminded Thomas of a gray rat, it was like all life and color had escaped him, a dusty aura surrounded him and seemed to poison the air in the entire room.

"The janitor?" Thomas asked, remembering that Alby had mentioned the name before.

"Don't look at him," Mihno said and shot Thomas a humorous look. His eyes had a mischievous glance, one that woke something up inside of Thomas, something he had not felt in quite some time.

"Rule number one is to never look into the eyes of the enemy," Alby said, clearly not as amused as his friend, but his voice was not as stern as before.

"The enemy?" Thomas echoed, feeling a bit confused. Or, he felt _more _confused than before, which made him fear that this state of mind would become something chronical.

"Yes, the enemy. We're at bloody war," Newt said, describing the situation at a very frightening way. But still, that tingling feeling in the pit of Thomas's stomach grew bigger at these words, he could not wait to be a part of this great thing.


	4. This janitor of ours

Thanks, again, for your kind reviews!

So, the next chapter! I am so sorry to say that it will take a while before you get the fifth, unfortunately. I am going away for the holidays and won't have any time to write until I come back. But I promise that the next chapter will contain not only the boys first adventure, but also some light Thomas and Mihno action... So don't go anywhere, darlings!

* * *

><p>"Cute little club you've got goin' on 'ere," came another voice, once again from behind Thomas. Lunch had dragged out longer than he had expected, apparently both Newt and Alby had a thing for staying at the lunchtable, talking, joking, messing around.<p>

Mihno had left a while ago to go training. Apparently, Thomas was right when he assumed the other boy spent a lot of time both in the gym and in the track. The big forest surrounding the school was perfect for running around with maps and chasing the next control point, something Mihno and the rest of the school's team was quite good at doing.

Chuck had left around the same time, apparently being a few years younger than everybody else meant studying on a Sunday. So there was only Thomas, Alby and Newt left at the table. Well, not for long, because there was that voice as well.

Thomas turned around to trace the voice, try to see who it was that had approached their little club.  
>As it turned out, there were actually two people standing there, two people who were moving fast and, without asking, took the liberty to take place on either side of Thomas on his bench.<p>

"Glad you could join us, gentlemen," Alby said and looked the two boys in the eye. Judging by the looks he gave them, and that hint of a smile he did, these two were not the enemy.

"Eager to see our little greenie for yerselves, aren't ye?" Newt smile and nodded towards Thomas, who all of a sudden felt like all light was directed at him, blinding him.

"Well, well," the boy to his left said. His skin was dark and his body robust, but not in a scary way like Gally, more in a way that made Thomas decide that this was the guy to call if he ever wanted to redecorate his room.

"That shuck 's Frypan. Or, that's what we call 'im," Newt kept on smiling, nodding slightly at the guy who was apparently called Frypan, an odd name for a dude, in Thomas's opinion.

"Why?" he asked, addressing the newly introduced boy, who smiled at the comment.

"Because I once hit a dude over the head with one," he said and introduced us all to a big bag of potatochips. Thomas looked at him, his eyes big for two reasons. One: had he really misjudged this guy so badly? Had he really hit someone with a frypan? And second, how on earth did he get that bag of chips?  
>But Thomas was the only one who reacted with fear or surprise to both of these factors, because the other boys around the table just laughed.<p>

"Let's just say that the people in the kitchen really like me," Frypan said and offered Thomas a chips, one he gladly accepted. He then turned to the boy on his other side, waiting for Newt to introduce even this one.

"And that's Winston," Newt said, as expected, his mouth full of chips, something that earned a small it on the arm from his friend. What Newt responded with, Thomas did not see, because he had turned his head to the boy called Winston.

"Well, at least you have a normal name," he said and gave Winston a little smile. Winston turned out to be a rather skinny one, his face long and thin, his hair and eyes a very dark shade of brown. He had big dark eyebrows as well, but despise of that, he actually looked rather nice.

"And yours is?" he asked, extending a hand for Thomas to shake, which he gladly did.

"Thomas," there was not the same tingling feeling running through his bones at Winston's touch, not at all like the handshake he had shared with Mihno an hour ago. Still, Thomas was not slow on letting the other boy's hand go.

"So, this school's got an orienteering team?" Thomas asked, watching as the other boys stuffed their faces with chips and smiled sheepishly. The dining hall was now empty, except for their table, and Thomas could not help but wonder where they all went. Did all boys do their homework on a Sunday, or was that just Chuck? Or maybe that orienteering team was more popular than Thomas had first thought it was.

"Yeah," Alby said. "Mihno's the captain and the best damn runner there is," he said it as if it was no big deal at all, something everybody knew. The other boys just shrugged their shoulders, didn't seem to care much.

"You see, on this school, they don't just teach us enough to give us a worthy education," Alby kept on talking, careful to swallow before he opened his mouth. The older boy seemed to be the only one at this place who actually had any manners, or at least the only one who cared about them. "We're assigned different tasks as well."

"Such as?" Thomas wondered if being a part of the orienteering team was one of those tasks. In that case, he really wanted to know what the other ones were.

"Mihno and some other guys are on the orienteering and whatever more they do I don't know. Frypan and Winston here work in the kitchen, that Gally guy is a builder, we've got some sloppers and some med-jacks…" Alby trailed off, shrugging his shoulders.

"I didn't understand a word you were just saying," Thomas announced, looking as confused as he felt.

"Don't worry, love, you'll get there," Newt said, grinning. The other boys laughed at the nickname, apparently already starting to assume that Thomas wasn't one of the brightest kids at this place. He decided not to care about it just yet.

"Grossman is the principal of this place…" Thomas began, stopped only to take a breath and give time for Frypan to say "Scary dude" before continuing. "… and the Griever is the janitor?" he was still not really sure on how to use that nickname. Griever? What was that supposed to mean?

"Maybe ye aren't as thickheaded as we thought ye were, after all," Newt said, leaning forward on the bench, placing his elbows on the table to steady himself. He was still grinning, something he seemed to do a lot. At least when Alby was around, a thought that made Thomas want to grin, an impulse he carefully fought back.

"So, tell me about some of that mischief you were talking about earlier," Thomas said. He could feel his eyes shining with curiosity. Whatever was going on on this school, he wanted in on it.

The other boys stopped laughing, their open mouths turned to broad grins. If one would describe how the word mischief looked, this would be it.  
>Alby had opened his mouth to speak, utter the words Thomas so dearly wanted to hear, but quickly closed it again. Apparently, there was once again someone standing behind his own back. He was getting really tired of this and decided, on the spot, to never sit with his back facing the dining hall area again.<p>

Slowly, he turned around. There was a man standing there, not another boy, a man. He looked really gray and dirty in a very disgusting way. Not like he had been working all day in some place with a lot of dust, more like he hadn't showered in two weeks. His grey hair was greasy, his skin dull and body thin. One could say that it was nothing healthy about his appearance, at all.

"Well, well," he said and flashed a crooked grin, his watery eyes shining in a very troublesome way. "Grossman told me about you," he continued and with those words leaned closer to Thomas. He smelled like sour sponges and strong soap, a very curios mixture. "New meat."

Thomas didn't know what to say, so he kept quiet, waiting for the janitor to keep on talking. And he didn't have to wait long.

"I just wanted to introduce myself and let you memorize my face," he smiled even bigger and looked even more disgusting and sinister. "So you'll know who to be afraid of."

Thomas frowned, clearly confused. Afraid of the janitor?

This janitor was now leaning against his broom, still smiling. To Thomas he didn't look terrifying, just disgusting. This was nothing he said out loud.

"Because if I catch your skinny ass doing mischief…" the janitor didn't finish his sentence, he just left it hanging in the air, just like one of those threats you see in gangster movies.

"Yeah, yeah, nice talk, mr. Janitor," Newt said, his eyebrows pulled together and his forehead wrinkled. The janitor, the Griever, gave him a sour look and waved one of his long crooked fingers in the air at the blond boy, but did not open his mouth again. Instead, he took his broom and walked past their table towards the exit of the room.

"What the hell was that?" Thomas breathed as soon as the Griever had left.

"That, Tommy-boy," Newt said between fits of laughter, "was the Griever."

The other boys were laughing as well, but Thomas only felt confused.

"And I guess he has no reason what so ever to assume that I will be up to any mischief…?"

"Don't fool yourself," Frypan said and ate the last of the chips that were left in the bag. "You won't get away."

They all laughed, Thomas frowned.

"It's Sunday," Newt said.

"Sunday, bloody Sunday," Frypan added, grinning.

"It's the night to unleash yer worst pranks, Tommy-boy," the tone Newt was using had something dangerous to it, something that made Thomas's blood run even faster, his mind racing with excitement.

This was exactly what he had been waiting on.


	5. This intoxicating place of ours

Aloha darlings! Thank you for waiting, I hope it was worth it! Sorry, I know I promised some mayhem in this chapter, but that will be in the next instead. I got so caught up in something else... Hope you'll enjoy!

* * *

><p>"Classes will start tomorrow."<p>

Thomas was sitting in the common room, a set of cards jammed in his hand and a serious expression on his face. He was currently very close to losing a game of cards, something he did not want to do on his first night at the school. His opponent, Newt, did seem to be pleased with himself, a grin had started to spread and lighten up his face with every new round.

Now Alby's body was filling up the seat next to the blond boy, wearing an exhausted expression, his eyes resting steadily on Thomas's concentrated face.

"Classes?" the thought of this place actually being a real school had somehow escaped his mind. It seemed strange that all of these kids would eventually sit jammed up in one small classroom and actually stay quiet long enough to learn anything. The scene around Thomas at this moment just helped to strengthen this thought, because the common room was filled with chaos. It was hard to even hear your own thoughts.

"Yes, classes. This is actually a school, believe it or not," Alby said and picked up Newts soda and took a small sip.

"Hey!" Newt said, almost smacking his friend over the head, but since that would result in his soda getting lost forever, he contained himself and chose to give Alby an angry look and some not so kind words instead.

"What kind of classes?" Thomas asked and witnessed how some of the cards on the table in front of him got themselves a shower when Newt finally managed to snatch his soda back, some of it spilling over the edge and splashing the table.

"You know, school classes," Alby said and shrugged his shoulders. Once again there was a concerned and stern look on his face, as if he once again hid inside that shell of his. "English, calc, history, that kind of shit, you know."

All of the cards were on the table and Newt was no longer in his chair. He was standing up, a triumphant look on his face accompanied with a huge grin.

"And he does it again, slinthead!"

Thomas sighed deeply and leaned back in his chair, threw his last cards on the table and reached for his own soda, feeling suddenly oh so tired. He felt even more exhausted when he realized his soda was no longer present.

Confused, he looked around in the common room for the thief, but could see no one looking suspicious enough. There was chaos around him, beautiful chaos. Boys sat in front of the TV, shouting and screaming as they fought for their lives on the screen. Some was hanging out in the sofas at the other end of the room, different sodas in hand and foul words and lousy arguments in their mouths and in the air between them.

Thomas could spot the blond guy, Gally, as one of the boys in the sofa. He was hard to miss, since he was the loudest of them all, his jaw open and eyes wide. Chuck was playing videogames, screaming and shouting at the screen. But there was one guy missing.

Newt had once again sat down in his chair, leaning back with his hands behind his head, a satisfied expression pulling at his face. He and Alby seemed to be discussing something humorous, or at least something that made Alby flash some of his rare smiles.  
>Mihno was no one to be seen, which immediately made Thomas suspicions.<p>

"Missing something, greenie?" The voice came from behind his back, from the wall covered with bookshelves.

Thomas turned around in his chair, only to find the missing boy grinning at him, soda in hand. Mihno's black satin hair was still wet, probably from showering after his hours on in the tracks around the school grounds. His dark eyes were shining, and Thomas was not sure if it was the light playing with him, or if Mihno was in a very mischievous mood. Either way, he had to look away in order to control the raging feeling in his stomach, a feeling he really didn't want to know what it really meant.

"Is that my soda?" Thomas asked, feeling a bit stupid since that fact was obvious. But the sight of the boy in front of him made him speechless, his tongue felt heavy and strangely numb. Annoyance filled every fiber in his body, resulting in him standing up to stretch his limb, trying to shake the feeling away and get it out of his system.

"Of course it is your soda, shuckface," Mihno said and lifted the said thing to his lips, took a small sip and dropped that small grin of his.

"Well, can I get it back?" Thomas wondered, standing a few feet away from Mihno, not sure if the guy was mocking him or actually bullying him.

"Why are you here, Thomas?" Mihno asked, causing Thomas to stop dead in his tracks. Mihno wore no facial expression at all, his face blank and mouth closed. That soda in his hand was nothing but a reason to get Thomas's attention, he realized that now, a few moments to late.

"Why do you ask?" he said, trying to get away from it all, trying to come up with something so that he wouldn't be forced to answer. Because he didn't know what to say. He had never felt so lost.

"Curiosity," came as an answer, short and brutally honest. "Did your mommy and pappy leave poor shuckface here when they got sick of his shuck face?" There it was again, that mocking tone, that brutality. Thomas felt a slight wave of shock run through his body, the result of that harshness.

"Not really," Thomas said, finally managing to make his feet move again, stepping a little bit closer, trying to snatch the soda from the other boys hand and just get this whole thing over with. Of course he did not succeed, what had he expected, really?

Mihno wore a smug smile, that mischievous light had not yet left his eyes, it was still present and constantly increasing, shining even brighter and casting an even bigger spell on Thomas, one he didn't want to admit he was a slave to. Judging by the look on Mihno's face, he failed miserably. He wore a smile, an intoxicating smile.

Thomas felt like the main character in some cheesy love story, falling in love with the mysterious guy on the very first page.  
>Except, Thomas wasn't in love.<br>But he was under some sort of spell. It was painful. Really painful, especially since Mihno was closing in on him, moving a few steps closer.

Thomas could feel the smell of his skin, the intoxicating smell of soap and fire and gunpowder, a mixture of poison and cherry, he wanted to step closer and run his fingers down Mihno's strong arms, but as the same time he wanted to turn around and run, run and never come back.

He did neither of these things. Instead, he remained frozen where he was, breathing in the toxic air even further.  
>Mihno's breath warmed his face, making the tiny hairs on his arm stand up and almost bend over. He could not continue breathing, not continue thinking.<p>

"Either way, welcome to hell," Mihno's voice was a low whisper, barely auditable, but just loud enough for Thomas to catch every word. "I'm glad your parents didn't want to," coming from his mouth, this insult sounded like something intimate. Thomas shuddered, he hoped Mihno didn't catch it. He was sure the other boy did.

Thomas had to put tight restrains on himself, he had to fight hard not to do anything stupid. All his hands wanted to do was touch Mihno's bare arms, all his fingers wanted to do was find their way to underneath the black woolen shirt and tease the skin on his stomach, all his lips wanted to do was to kiss that pulse point of his, feel life run underneath his own mouth.

"The time 'as come, lovebirds, let's go and cause some mayhem."

Thomas gasped and took a step back, struggled to not lose his balance, to remain standing. Behind him, Newt had a big grin on his lips, a big mocking grin that Thomas really wanted to just punch away. He did not dare to look at Mihno, so instead he faced the boy by Newt's side, looked at Alby for support or distraction.

"What's the plan?"


	6. This wicked life of ours

Aloha darlings! Thank you for staying with me, and welcome to all you new people who've found this little story of mine! I have decided to try to update once a week, at least now while I'm trying to write NaNoWriMo...  
>I hope you'll enjoy this chapter even though I was not quite pleased with it...<p>

* * *

><p>The corridor was silent, a pressing darkness tore at the boy's features and blurring the edges. Thomas had trouble following them since he could not quite see them. The only source of light the fellow students had was the moonlight shining in through the high windows. Ironic and very cheesy, Thomas thought. They had a mission, and the moon was watching them, guarding over them, he hoped. He also hoped none of the other boys were mind readers, because otherwise he would never get his dignity back.<p>

He did not understand the plan, honestly, he just followed the others. He was also lost, but tried to not pay any attention to that matter. It was a small thorn in his side, though, not knowing the way back, not having an escape plan if things went rouge. He wasn't really comfortable with putting his faith and safety in the hands of these boys since they were in fact mad. Thomas was sure now, they were indeed mad, crazy, wicked. He grew more and more certain of this fact the deeper into the school they got.

This was apparently something they did every Sunday night, they said it was something sacred with this whole mission, it was supposedly something like blessing each weak. These boys didn't pray, they took the matter into their own hands and played God, just for one night.  
>They were running down a set of stairs now, the big stairs he had climbed a few times in this day alone. The boys were surprisingly quiet, really like thieves in the night.<p>

Another corridor, one he had not yet visited. There was a lot of doors here, white doors with a small window. Some of the blinders were pulled shut, but some were left open, revealing whatever was hiding inside. Thomas wished he had a flashlight, because there were no actual windows here, no moonlight guiding him, watching over him. He was close to tripping over his own feet a couple of times, but managed to regain his balance.

Suddenly, his body slapped into something hard, something that had without warning appeared in his path. His breath nearly got knocked out of him, by miracle he remained his balance. The wall in front of him made a surprised sound, a displeased noise which was close to a snarl.

"Watch it, shuchface," it was Mihno's voice.

Thomas was close to blurting out a quick _sorry, _but decided not to. There was a hand on his wrist, resting with ease, sending enormous sparks of electricity through his body. The hand belonged to the boy in front of him, it belonged to the boy with the satin hair and the rock hard body.

His eyes got used to the darkness much quicker now when they were standing still. Mihno was standing next to him, having let go of his wrist, the other boy was now leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. Newt was next to him, his long blond hair pushed behind his ears and his eyes glowing faintly with excitement. He was watching the dark skinned boy by the door. Alby was standing close to one of the weird doors, it took Thomas a few seconds before he realized the older boy was trying to pick the lock.

He made a small noise of excitement as the door swung open, ready to let them in, unknowing of the boy's true intentions.

Behind the door was a classroom, a rather small classroom with a huge whiteboard covering almost the entire wall to his right. In front of it was a bunch of benches with chairs, all organized in neat and very precise rows. In here, Thomas could see the moonlight again, there were similar windows like in the first hallway covering the opposite wall from the door they had just entered.

The plan became very clear to Thomas now. And he had to admit that the feeling he had in the pit of his stomach was an exciting one, an intoxicating one, one he was sure was an addicting one.

Newt was standing in front of him now, blocking his view of the room. He was holding something, something that turned out to be a thick pen with a green cap.

"Let's cause some mayhem, Tommy," there was a huge grin on his lips, giving him a grim look, the light from the outside world playing with the shadows in his face.

Mihno and Alby was already standing in front of the big whiteboard, pointing with their pens and arguing under their breath.

There was paint on his hands. In the faint light, it looked like blood. He felt like a warrior, a warrior coming back from battle.

They were laughing now, laughing loudly. Systematically, they had worked their way down the hall, picking every lock, painting every whiteboard, laughing their heads off, laughing even more loudly for every classroom.

Now they were running again. Their laughter was chasing them down the hallway, urging them to go even faster.

Up the stairwell, down the rest of the corridor to the now empty common room, high on mischief and the drunkenness of the night, the collapsed in the sofas, laughing and laughing and laughing.

"So you do this every Sunday night?" Thomas managed, looking at the other boys at his side. They were all smiling now, drinking the last of this nightly adventure.

"It's tradition," Alby said. He was on his feet now, helping Newt to his feet. Not until they started heading down the corridor, Thomas noticed the slight limp Newt had. He wanted to ask, wanted to know, but as the boys called out their good nights, he waved goodbye to the opportunity.

"Heading to bed?" Mihno asked, he was standing as well.

Thomas forced his tired body up from the comfortable sofa, realizing a horrible fact as he did so.

"Um, yeah, but there's one slight problem," they were walking further down the hallway, the same hallway where he had met Chuck for the first time.  
>Mihno had stopped, waiting for him a few steps ahead.<p>

"I've forgotten which room is mine," he finally admitted.

"You're staying with Chuck right?" Mihno kept walking, keeping Thomas by his side. He nodded, not sure if Mihno actually saw this gesture, but he did it anyway.

"My room is quite close to yours, then."

Thomas heart stopped, then jumped, then raced.

Mihno stopped. They were standing at the end of the long corridor of rooms, looking at one in particular, one that Thomas had a faint memory of being his.

"You have color in your hair, slinthead, make sure to get it out before class tomorrow, otherwise you'll get the blame. And we will not go down with you," Mihno raised a hand, traced his fingers through the colored part of Thomas's hair, sending massive shocks of electricity through his whole body, making it hard to resist the urge to cringle.

He lost his breath, he lost all reason. He lost it.

Mihno had his lips close to his ear, teasing his cheek with the warmth of his breath. Teasing the electricity, making it run wild.

"Make sure to clean yourself up nicely, greenie."

When he stepped away, Thomas already missed the heat his body had radiated, the promises and wild possibilities he had thrown at him, the fact that this whole thing – whatever it was – was truly new and certainly forbidden. It was intoxicating. It was thrilling.

He drew a deep breath, revealed that he could finally breathe again.

Mihno had left him alone in the corridor, alone and confused.

Alone and questioning.

Questioning himself.

Finally, he opened the door behind him and stepped in, stepped in to something new, stepped in to another beginning.

"Hey roomie!"

He nearly jumped out of his skin.


	7. This nightly ritual of ours

Aloha darlings! Just wanted to put this out there again: I do not own TMR, just playing around!

* * *

><p>It turned out Chuck had been staying awake, waiting for him. Thomas gave him a shaky smile, an exhausted smile. All he wanted to do was escape his clothing and lie down in bed to play replay this day in his head. It had all began catching up with him now, the fact that he was at a foreign school because of his parents (mostly his mother, he didn't really care about his idiotic stepfather) had sent him away, meeting all of these new people who seemed to enjoy messing with his head. Especially Mihno, that bastard. What was it they said? Shuckface? Shuckhead? Slinthead? His own head, shuck or not, was spinning.<p>

He desired some peace and quiet, something he would not get yet, at least not while Chuck was awake. From where did that kid get his energy?

"Why's your hair green and blue and red?"

The room he was currently in, the room he would share with Chuck for god knows how long, turned out to be quite small, something that did not surprise him. It shaped exactly as a square, containing two beds pushed up on either side of the light blue walls, one big desk and two cupboards for clothing. It hit Thomas that he owned nothing but the clothes he was currently removing from his body. It was a sad thought, he felt poor and alone, left with no objects and no love.

He pulled the black boots of his feet and threw them by the cupboard by the end of what appeared to be his bed, the one placed on the left side of the room.

"You'll see tomorrow," he gave Chuck a small smile even though he didn't feel like it. His words seemed to excite Chuck.

"They let you in on their Sunday mischief?"

Thomas nodded and removed his light blue shirt, folded it neatly and approached the cupboard. He got a pleasant surprise as he did so, because the entire cabinet was filled with folded clothing, not his own but new sets of shirts and pants and underwear. He wanted to scream with joy, but decided not to. In there, he found a white t-shirt which seemed perfect to sleep in.

His body ached. His head ached. He was tired, exhausted, confused, excited. The room was spinning, it was pure joy to lie down on the bed, pull the covers over his aching body and rest his heavy head on the soft pillow. He felt like he could sleep for a hundred years, he felt like he needed to sleep for a hundred years.

"Wow, that's awesome," Chuck breathed. He was lying down on his own bed now, arms folded under his head, his eyes studying the white ceiling.

Thomas turned over on his back, letting his eyes travel across the ceiling, breathing everything in, this whole scene, this whole day. He opened his mouth without even realizing, the words jumped out, the question he had been holding inside all day was now out in the open.

"Why are you here, Chuck?"

The room was dark now, so dark Thomas could no longer see the features of his friends face, see how he reacted, what was running through his mind at this time.

For a few minutes, there was nothing but silence. Thomas felt like he had stepped over a line, gone too far, insulted this young boy in some way.

"They didn't want me," the voice that finally reached Thomas's ears was low and cracked. He was no longer a young boy pretending his age, all that pretending was gone. Here he was, a small boy left by his parents. Thomas's heart was breaking.

"Same here," he said, trying to show Chuck that he was not alone, that he was in the same situation. To his surprise, Chuck seemed to recover quickly, shuffled some in his bed, stayed quiet only for a few short seconds.

"Why did they leave you?"

The words hit Thomas harder than he thought they would, slapped his face and left a red ugly mark on his right cheek. He thanked the darkness for surrounding him, for making him invisible and for concealing his face, all the feelings that played with his features.

"I don't know," he answered finally, not quite telling the truth but not lying either. The words cut his tongue, poked his eyes and filled his lunges. It was not entirely true, but not all lies either. Grossman had said something about breaking into his stepfathers home, the images of articles, flashes of something that could have been memories appeared before his eyes and pulled at him, teased him, threatened to overpower his tired mind. Thomas pushed them away, not feeling ready to deal with them yet, not here, not now, not with Chuck so close to him.

"Not many of us do, at least not the ones who were left here," Chuck sounded tired, like he was almost drifting into sleep already.

"What do you mean?" Thomas sighed, feeling as confused as ever. He was too tired to search inside his own brain, too tired to search for words he had earlier heard, secrets these walls had already whispered to him, shared with him.

"There are rumors," Chuck yawned before he continued. "About some of the boys, the reasons they are here," Thomas didn't have to guess who Chuck was talking about.

"You mean Gally?" Thomas breathed, excited to know more, feeling the need to know more, to understand the peculiar boy some of the others seemed to be oh so afraid of.

"Not only Gally, but him as well of course. But also Mihno, Alby…" he trailed off, clearly too tired to focus. His breathing got more even, deeper.  
>Chuck was asleep.<p>

Thomas studied the ceiling, not really able to see anything, but doing it nevertheless. Mihno? Mihno had been sent here because he _did _something? Inside of him, a peculiar feeling roared, threw itself on the walls of his head, breaking every thought of reason he had. Instead, excitement and curiosity overpowered his mind. That boy, that funny, charming and wild boy had done something so bad he had to be schooled back to reason. Was he a criminal? Had he murdered someone? Thomas tried to picture the boy with the black satin hair with blood on his hands, a grim look carved into his face, but without succeeding. And Alby. Was he a criminal as well? Thomas had to admit the older boy could look frightening, that stern face of his, the way he almost never smiled, but could not picture him as a criminal. Alby seemed to structured, like someone who believed in order and purity and doing what's right.

This place was hiding so many secrets, these people were so dark and mysterious yet funny, charming and pleasant to be around. Thomas felt confused, his head was spinning as sleep finally grabbed him with its strong hands, pulling him under, without mercy.

Thomas felt like falling, a pleasant feeling, even though his thoughts was racing. But that was something he could deal with tomorrow. Now, he hoped to dream of something good.


	8. This secretive place of ours

It's been too long since I updated, and I'm sorry for that, darlings. Hope you'll enjoy this one, and I promise that I'll try to update as soon as possible again. I've got some ideas for future adventures that I think you're going to enjoy reading about... 'til we meet again: chapter 8.

* * *

><p>Thomas found himself fully awake at the most uncomfortable hour. Classes didn't start until 8.30, and he was already fully awake at 6. Thomas guessed it was due to all the new impressions: the new bedroom, the new bed, new pillow, everything was new. It would take a while to get used to it.<p>

Thomas soon realized that he would not be able to stay in bed for much longer, just passing the time, and that was why we was in the shower room at 6.30 in the morning of his first day of classes.

On purpose, he kept the water a few degrees to cold, trying to remain awake and alert, hoping the cold water would keep the early hour and the lack of sleep from catching up with him. He was quite satisfied with himself since he had found the shower room entirely on his own. It wasn't hard to find, but since this place was almost like a maze and one wrong turn could result in him getting so lost that he would miss his first classes, he felt pleased.

Thomas allowed himself the small luxury of taking a long shower, even though the water was cold. Besides, it took him a great while to finally wash away all the paint from his hair and his fingers. He even found some of it on his neck and upper arms, wondering in silence how it had gotten there.

His thoughts this morning should be at the coming day, wondering about his classes, the new teachers, which subjects he would take and the amount of work he would have to catch up upon, but every time he started thinking about school, a familiar face emerged in front of him, stealing all of his attention away. It was the face of the boy with satin hair and charming eyes, the boy who had managed to steal all of his thoughts during only one day. It was a mixture of odd feelings that filled Thomas's cold body, feelings he wanted to chase away, to ban from his stomach and brain. The boy with the satin hair had done something really bad in order to get here, something that earned him a spot at this prison, this school for criminal and unwanted boys.

Unwanted

As the water slowly turned his skin to ice, dark thoughts began to gather in his mind as thunderclouds, threatening and depressing. With a deep sigh, he turned the water off and reached for the light and soft towel hanging at the other side of the small booth. The small warmth from the towel was welcoming, Thomas did his best to rub the soft fabric to his skin, trying to bring some warmth to it, succeeding only slightly.

His hand was resting on the small door handle when he heard another door open. Slowly he withdrew his own hand, stepping backwards until his back was pressed towards the cold wall of his shower booth.

"Wonder what mischief Alby and the others did tonight," came a voice, one Thomas did not recognize. A small laughter followed, accompanied by another unrecognizable voice.

"Well, the mischief seemed to continue throughout the whole night, at least for Newt, if you know what I mean?"

"What, he didn't come back to your room last night?"

"Nope. I was awake doing that math homework 'til dawn, but he never showed."

The two unknown boys filled the entire room with their rough laughers, bouncing it towards the walls and the floor and the ceiling, throwing it violently at Thomas's slightly trembling figure in the corner booth. Confused and cold, Thomas stayed put, eager to hear more of this strange conversation.

"The way he and Mihno act around each other," the first voice said. "It makes me sick."

Thomas felt violated. He felt beaten, a strange feeling revolting in his stomach.

"Stop it man," said the other voice. "It's not like it's something unusual. You remember that boy Andrew from last year? The one with the crooked teeth?"

He got a short murmur of remembrance from the first boy, and then continued speaking. "And besides, I don't think Mihno's like that. Haven't you seen those magazines he hides underneath his bed?"

The two boys laughed again, louder this time, not as cruel as the first time.

"Hey, shuckface, were you gonna shower or not?" there was a small urgency in the first boy's voice, followed by a shuffle of feet and the sound of someone opening the door to the booth next to the one Thomas was currently habituating.

"You better hurry up, or else all the juice will be gone."

"Slim it, shuckface, Gally said he'd save us some," said the voice from the booth as sound of running water once again filled the room.

Thomas felt numb. His body was trembling, out of cold and something else, something he could not yet define. He wanted out of his room, out of this situation, but could not yet move. His feet were frozen to the ground, and the two boys were still in the room. Who knows what they would do if they found out he had been listening this whole time?

It took another ten minutes before the boys left, another ten minutes of pressing his body against the still so cold wall, of holding his breath and of shaking. I took another ten minutes even after that before Thomas had the guts to step out of his booth and head for his clothes that lay on a heap at the chair in the corner.

Not even the clothes could make him warm again, not even the clothes could stop him from trembling. But why, he wondered, why were he shaking so badly?

All kinds of questions were running around in his head, causing mayhem, confusing him even more and more with every heartbeat. He didn't know what to make of the conversation he'd overheard and found himself lingering more on the thought of Mihno's sexuality than anything else. These tangles thoughts were the exact reason why Thomas finally found himself in a totally unknown corridor, one he had never visited before. He was, without doubt, lost.

Thomas sighed deeply and threw his hands in the air in a tired gesture. Confusion seemed to be a constant state of mind at this place, constantly following him, taunting him, teasing him. He felt tired, tired of being lost and tired of being confused.

"Lost, greenie?"

The voice was thick and low, bouncing off the walls and hitting Thomas from every direction. It was a voice he didn't recognize, one he wasn't sure he wanted to know. There was a threat hidden beneath those simple syllables.

There was a tall boy standing a few meters behind him in the corridor, a boy Thomas did not know but recognized still. It was Gally, the boy with the terrifying laugh, the boy with terrors growing out of his back, the boy with hidden motives and a wide sadistic grin playing with the features in his face.

"You seem lost," he took a few steps closer, deleted some of the comforting distance that had been separating the two of them. Thomas remained silent, not sure what to say without admitting that he was in fact lost. Admitting weakness did not seem like a smart move, not to Gally.

He laughed. Gally laughed, a short noise, not a joyful noise at all.

"You're Thomas right?" he was even closer now, the hairs on Thomas's neck was standing up.

"Yeah," his voice came of low and cold. "And you're Gally," he said, no question mark at the end of his sentence.

Gally cocked his head, his eyes carefully studying every feature in Thomas's tired face.

"Why are you here, greenie?" Gally asked, his arms crossed over his chest. "Did your mama and papa not want your sorry face? Or did you manage to scare them off? _Make _them send you here?" there was a mocking tone in his voice, a tone that threw even more wood to the fire that was burning brighter and brighter inside of Thomas now. A fire of rage and confusion.

"That's none of your business," he managed to say.

"You're wrong, shuckface. It is my business. Everything that happens at this school is my business."

Thomas opened his mouth to answer, to say something that would shut Gally's mouth right up. But before he could even think of some smart comeback, a short figure appeared at the end of the corridor, a figure Thomas recognized all too well.

"There you are, Thomas! I've been looking all over for you!" there was a thick tone of relief in Chuck's voice, one that indicated that the younger boy had been searching for him quite some time.

Thomas tried to hide the relief that boiled up inside of him, careful not to let it show. Gally himself turned around and gave Chuck a look of disgust before he walked away.

"That looked intense," Chuck said when Thomas reached him.

"Yeah, it kind of was," he decided to speak with Newt about this Gally figure later.

"The others are waiting for us at breakfast, they said they'd try to get some juice for us, so we better hurry before they decide to drink it themselves," they were hurrying down the huge staircase now, there was a different kind of energy in Chuck's steps, maybe it was the thought of the juice that made him bounce up and down.

"Yeah, what's up with that juice anyway?" Thomas asked, remembering the conversation he'd overheard between the two boys in the shower room.

"It's the best, I promise. The only way you can make it through the morning 'til lunch," Chuck smiled widely and Thomas could not help but smile back, for the first time this morning – his smile was genuine and true.


	9. This reality of ours

Aloha darlings! Hope you've had a wonderful christmas! This chapter is one of those in-between thingies: It is leading up to something _good. _Thank you all for your kind rewievs, feel free to leave some more!  
>I do not own the Maze Runner, just playing with the characters!<p>

* * *

><p>"Whatever ye do, shuckface, don't let 'em know about our mission last night," Newt's eyes were scanning Thomas's tired face. The lack of sleep was finally beginning to catch up with him. There was a glass of bright yellow orange juice waiting for him on the table. He welcomed the sugary liquid with a smile on his face. Chuck was right, this juice was to die for.<p>

"No need to worry about yer classes, greenie. Just follow me, we'll be taking at least the first two together," Newt may use a strong language, but his heart was kind and true.

Thomas found himself nodding, downing the last of the juice, feeling satisfied. With all the sugar in his veins, he felt ready to take on the day.

It turned out he wasn't ready for the day. Not at all. His fist lesson was math, difficult equations that used up the sugary energy right away. He felt restless in his chair, twisting and turning and constantly longing for the freedom that was available in the corridors. Their teacher, Mr. Kidd turned out to be a middle-aged man with already grey hair and rough skin and deep blue eyes. Oddly deep and oddly blue. His eyes seemed to follow Thomas's every move, not the way he moved his pen but the way he held himself. The way he moved around on his chair to find a more comfortable way to sit.  
>When the lesson was finally over, Thomas felt strangely violated and very, very tired.<p>

"Thomas?" the voice bounced between the walls, rang out loud and oddly intimidating. Newt looked at him, one eyebrow raised, but said nothing. Instead he gestured that he would wait outside to accompany Thomas to their next lesson.

Mr. Kidd stood at the whiteboard, his body leaned against it, his arms crossed over his chest.

"First of all, welcome to our school," he smiled lightly. "And second, did you play any sports at your former school?"

Thomas felt surprised by the odd question and decided that was the best word to describe this new teacher of his: _odd._

"Uh, yeah," he felt a bit taken aback by the question. "I was on the tracking team."

Mr. Kidd looked pleased. There was a satisfied glimmer in his blue eyes, a small smile played with his thin lips. "Good, good," he paused, turned around and started erasing different equations from the whiteboard. "We meet after dinner in the yard behind the school. Be there ten minutes early and I'll show you a pair of shoes."  
>Thomas felt confused. Very confused.<p>

"Excuse me sir, but what for?"

Mr. Kidd didn't even turn around when he answered. "You've got the physics, the restless behavior. You would be a great access for our orienteering team. Now, hurry off, or you'll be late for your next lesson."

"He said what?" Newt wore a shocked expression over his tired features. This day had passed in a blur of new experiences and new knowledge, of avoiding the eyes of professors and not answering when the constant question rang through the room: "_Who did this?"  
><em>

The teachers didn't seem to appreciate their nightly whiteboard art, especially not the sexual content or the poor attempts to paint the teachers themselves. Thomas had a hard time concealing his joy and laughter. Newt, Alby and Mihno seemed to have had the same issues.

"He wants me on the orienteering team," Thomas repeated and threw one quick glance at the boy with the satin hair situated on the other side of the table. Mihno smiled, a slow smile, a smile that spoke of exciting adventures and unbelievable danger. Thomas tried to hide a shudder. He hadn't met Mihno since last night, and a lot had happened since last night.

"That was quick," Newt said, a strange smile on his face. He seemed both happy and bitter, an expression that the lines in Newt's face was very used to. Another mystery Thomas didn't know how to solve. Not yet. He refused to look at Mihno again, so instead he kept his glance focused on Newt.

Thomas shrugged his shoulders and did his best to hide the excitement that was currently doing its best to force his face into a childish grin.

"Mihno's the best one on the team, I bet he can teach you very quickly," Chuck was situated beside Thomas on the bench, chewing happily on his ham and cheese sandwich.

He couldn't help it. He really couldn't help but look at Mihno. The boy's expression said nothing, it was almost as it was carved in stone. A strange feeling spread in Thomas's gut, killing the excitement right away. It was replaced by an unnerving nervousness, something poisonous spreading through his stomach, eating away all the happy feelings, destroying everything that had been building up throughout the day. He felt naked, he felt exposed. He felt venerable in the most terrifying way.

Dinner was almost over, it was almost time to hit the fields.

Thomas wanted to throw up.

The others had already changed the subject, they were talking about some experiences they'd had with the teachers, some reactions to their nightly art. Thomas couldn't keep up with them, his thoughts were stuck on the previous conversation, all kinds of questions were spinning in his mind, chasing him around, making him feel even more and more uneasy.

He almost fainted when Mihno finally stood up and announced it was time to go, urging Thomas to hurry up. His legs were shaking, his minds were spinning. Why did he feel so nauseated?

They walked towards the end of the building in silence, walked out of a back door and out onto the grass onto the big field that marked the beginning of the schools grounds. There were a few smaller houses situated close to the main building, and then came the forest. A huge forest, dark and unnerving, holding ancient secrets and promises of dark deeds. Finally, the nervousness was challenged by something else, a feeling that conquered all of his insides, filled his veins and urged his heart to beat even faster. The lust for adventure.

"Welcome to the maze," Mihno said, a small smile playing with the edges of his mouth, a smile that he soon managed to suppress, to kill. But not before Thomas had time to notice it. The satin boy next to him started moving towards one of the smaller houses where a small group of people were already standing. The satin boy kept on confusing Thomas, he seemed to be the kind of mixed signals.

"The maze?" Thomas asked, his eyes focused on the dark forest. The trees seemed to stand close together, and there was only one path visible.

"That's what us runners call it," he made a gesture with his head towards the group of people Thomas had noticed. "Because once you're in there, you better remember where you came from, otherwise you're screwed."

They had reached the team of _runners _standing in a circle in front of the small house closest to the forest. Thomas's strange math teacher was kneeling in the middle of the circle, a map and a compass in hand. Mr. Kidd looked up when he heard Thomas and Mihno approaching, an odd smile on his lips.

"Welcome, Thomas, to the runners," a pair of shoes was tossed to him, a pair of running shoes with a thick sole and bright yellow shoelaces. "Put those on and make yourself ready for taking on this maze of ours," Mr. Kidd smiled even wider, revealing some of his yellow crooked teeth. "Just follow Mihno, he'll show you how it's done."

The shoes was a little too big, but he had no time complaining. Because suddenly the runners were taking off, one by one.

Mihno was looking at him by the time he managed to get to his feet. A challenging look carved into his face, wicked mischief glittering in his eyes.

Thomas had never felt so ready, yet so afraid.


	10. This curse of mine

Aloha darlings! And happy new year! I say we kick it off with a steamy mihnas scene, or what do you think?  
>Please leave a review when you're done reading, I'd like to know what you think of this one!<br>And of corse, I do not own tmr or any of the characters!  
>Enjoy!<p>

* * *

><p>Thomas could feel the satin boy's breath warming his already sweaty neck. They were currently standing still, very still, in the middle of the very dark and very frightening forest. They'd been running for fifteen minutes straight before this very unexpected stop. And now Mihno was standing so close that Thomas could hear his heart beating, echoing between the trees. He did his best to hide a shudder and the frightened and surprised smile that followed.<p>

"What are you doing?" he wondered as he turned around to face the other boy, who was currently holding a map, studying it.

"What does it look like, shuckface?" the other boy shot back, clearly not in the mood for stupid questions or funny remarks. The satin boy had a wrinkle between his furrowed brows, his mouth slightly open and his breath a little bit uneven from the running. Thomas moved to stay closer to him, peaking over his shoulder to get a good look at the map.

"We're here," Mihno pointed at a spot on the map, in the middle of the forest. Thomas thought it all looked the same and admired how it didn't look all the same to Mihno. "And here's the first control," he pointed at another spot a few centimeters away from the first one.

Suddenly, a noise from behind them made Thomas jump, biting his tongue in order not to scream out loud. It had been a quiet noise, but it still reached his ears, sending a strong shudder down his back. He turned, quickly, and scanned the area around them, hoping to either see something, or not see anything at all. He didn't know what would be best.

"Did you hear that?" his words came out as a half whisper. Mihno stayed quiet, clearly listening for another sound. And so it came. It was a loud cracking, much closer this time. It was a noise of someone, or something, sneaking up on them, coming closer and closer with every heartbeat. Thomas shuddered again, his heart threatened to jump out of his ribcage and flee out of this maze. Who knew what could be hiding between these dense trees?

As if the creature could hear the question mark at the end of his sentence, it showed itself in a blur of motion, ran quickly between the trees. A blur of darkness, thick and frightening.

So Thomas panicked. His legs acted before his head had the chance to, they carried him over thick roots, broken branches and between trees. He could hear Mihno shouting after him, cussing loudly, and then the footsteps of the other boy.

"Thomas! You _bloody son of a bitch! _Stop running!"

But Thomas' legs wouldn't stop running, his heart wouldn't stop pounding, his heart wouldn't stop racing. His breathing grew heavier and heavier, but fear still had a tight grip on him. He just kept running, until he wasn't. He kept running until his running transformed into falling. Something heavy had thrown itself over his speeding body, and they were both falling, crashing to the ground, merciless and painfully.

Thomas screamed, a surprised scream, a short scream as he tumbled to the ground with this other creature on top of him, holding him down as he tried to fight his way back up again.

"You… Stupid… Son… of… _a bitch_!" the creature screamed from behind clenched teeth. As soon as Thomas realized the voice belonged to Mihno and not some hideous beast, he stopped kicking and relaxed his adrenaline filled muscles into the moist ground. The satin boy had twigs in his hair and a grim look in his eyes, his knees on either side of Thomas' stomach and his hands on either side of Thomas' head.

"What the hell were you thinking?" he shouted, a low kind of shouting, an aggressive kind. Mihno's whole figure trembled with rage, a stressed and slightly panicked kind of rage.

"You didn't see that?" he had a hard time breathing, and an even harder time getting those words to leave his lips. They came out as a terrified whisper, one he would later feel very ashamed of.

"Yes, I did," Mihno had lowered his voice and replaced the anger with grumpiness. "It was a stray dog, you shuckface. They camp out in here, lots of them. I guess they like the dampness and the darkness."

Suddenly, Thomas became very aware of how close the other boy was, of the position they were currently in. It took him every ounce of strength he had to prevent his cheeks from blushing and his breath from quickening. Mihno seemed pleased with the situation, as if he could see Thomas' struggle. Slowly, he rolled of Thomas and positioned himself in the damp moss, his back against one of the trees. Thomas himself sat up next to the other runner, careful not to touch Mihno in the progress.

"What's your deal, greenie?" Mihno asked, a hint of amusement in his voice. It seemed as if he had shaken the anger and irritation of, and replaced it with curiousness and mockery. Carefully, the satin boy touched his knee to Thomas', smiling broadly as he did so.

"My deal?" Thomas swallowed.

"Yes, your deal. Like, what's your problem? Why so scared?" Mihno bounced their knees together again, painfully slow.

"I'm not scared, its…" Thomas' breath caught as Mihno permanently rested his leg towards Thomas' own, leaning in a bit closer so that Thomas could feel the heat radiating from his body, making his heart beat a little bit quicker, much to his own surprise. What was happening to him? Not that he could remember much from _before, _but this seemed like something he would not forget. This whole I'm—interested-in-boys thingie. It annoyed him, the impact the other boy had on him. Not because he was a boy and Thomas himself was a boy, but because of how he didn't really seem to have a choice in the matter. Mihno had him under a spell, a wickedly strong one as well. Thomas felt pathetic and exposed, like he was falling too hard to fast, like the satin boy was playing with him, nothing more and nothing less. "Admit it, you would've done the same thing if this was your first time in the maze," Thomas found himself saying, grasping for a reason to change the subject.

The satin boy laughed and leaned in even more, now their shoulders were touching. Thomas' skin was on fire underneath the thin fabric of his light blue runners shirt.

His breath caught again, but Mihno didn't seem to notice.

"I klunked my pants the first time I was alone out here. Got lost as well, didn't find my way back until nightfall," Mihno suddenly shifted, leaned heavily away from Thomas, who immediately started to ache with longing. As soon as he had leant away, he leaned back again, positioning himself as close to Thomas as he could actually be, their entire sides were touching. The only difference was that Mihno was holding out a hand towards Thomas, the map placed inside his closed palm.

Thomas took it, unsure what to do with it.

"And now you're the one who got us lost, which means it is your job to get us un-lost again. Good luck, shuckface," and with those words, Mihno closed his eyes and leaned his head against the thick tree trunk their backs was propped up against.

Thomas felt cheated, but said nothing. Instead he just opened up the map and spread it out over his legs. It took him near a minute to recognize the place Mihno had pointed out as their position before, or at least what he thought was the correct spot. He then guessed they'd taken off south, running not more than a few hundred meters.

"I found it," he said out loud in order to wake the runner up. Thomas held his finger to their current position and watched Mihno's face, expecting a smile to break out and some warm words to pour out of his friend's mouth. The satin boy did smile, but it was not warm. It was mocking. And the words that poured over his lips were not nice, they were rather harsh and even more mocking than his smile.

"Are you sure?" Mihno laughed, and Thomas felt his patience break. They were lost in the middle of a huge, and quite scary, forest, and all his shuckface of a friend could do was laugh at him? Instead of answering, Thomas pushed the map into Mihno's lap and leaned his head against the tree trunk, looking up towards the small piece of sky that was visible between the treetops. It was already a few shades darker than it had been when they had left the school, and Thomas found himself questioning why they had to have these practices after dinner, so close to nightfall. Maybe that was coach's way of urging them to do this whole thing as quick as possible, a kind of threat. _Do what you're supposed to do, as quick as possible, or you'll be trapped in the maze as the night falls. _Thomas really didn't want to stay here as the forest grew even darker than it already was.

"Slim it, greenie," Mihno said, his voice lower and softer than before. It was a dangerous kind of soft, a voice a hunter would use in order to make his victim believe that everything was all right when it was in fact close to being killed. Even with this knowledge, Thomas felt himself stepping right into the trap.

Even softer, the satin boy placed a hand on Thomas' jaw, forcing him to look in Mihno's direction. The touch stopped Thomas' heart from beating, stopped his lungs from breathing.

"Think, greenie," Mihno said once he'd forced Thomas' eyes down on the map again. His voice was darker now, with a sharp edge to it.

Suddenly, Thomas was hit with the urging feeling to touch the satin boy, touch him like he supposed he'd never touched anybody before. He wanted to explore the other boy's features, feel the lines in his face, run his fingers through that satin hair and steal Mihno's breath just like the runner stole Thomas' own. The thought scared him, scared him senseless but was so intriguing as well. Exciting.

"Think!" Mihno urged, his voice stronger now. They were even closer, their faces only a few inches apart. The air between them was trembling with heat and excitement and fear.

Thomas couldn't think. All he could do was lose himself in the moment.

And he did.


End file.
